


Relaxing

by Dark_and_night



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Other, Relaxing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Michael isn't good at self-care.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Michael Myers/You
Kudos: 100





	Relaxing

Michael was still human. He still needed to eat and sleep and have moments where he can relax. He didn't find the times he can relax relaxing, his mind was always on killing. Where and when and how he can kill again.

How is always the fun part of the question. He has had a lot of time to think of fun little "how"s for the next killing spree he gets to go on. The more over the top he can get, the more fun he has.

And Dr. Loomis said there was nothing inside Michael. That he was unable to feel anything; a dead eyed monster. That was wrong. Michael felt fun. Or maybe it was more like satisfaction. Maybe even dedication. Or maybe the word itself didn't matter at all.

It wasn't Michael that monitored his killing versus "relaxing" time. That was your job. Self appointed, but still very much your job and therefore not Michael's problem.

"Michael, come sit." You purred one morning as Michael shuffled out of the bedroom. You held out your hand to him, your body language relaxed as you beckoned him to you.

He walked over to you, ignoring your hand and plopping down on the couch beside you. You, forever unfazed, put your hands on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Michael hated being touched. But the squeezes hurt in an oddly satisfying way, so he didn't push you away.

You gestured past him to the coffee table where a mug with hot liquid sat. The mug was obnoxiously bright, with a yellow and orange pattern on it. Steam came from the liquid, with bits of loose tea leaves floating in it. "Drink that, Michael."

He turned to you, his face blank. If anything he was hungry, not thirsty. And if he was thirsty he'd just have water.

You rolled your eyes, still rubbing his back. "I'll make breakfast. But you need to slow down and relax. You've been tired lately."

Michael turned back to the mug, following the childish pattern with his eyes. He wasn't tired, he just woke up. If he was tired he'd go to sleep, simple as that.

You huffed and took your hands off his back, leaving Michael instantly wanting more. He watched you out of the corner of his eye as you reached past him, grabbing the mug and putting it in his hands.

"Please. It's supposed to help you relax. You've been going really fast and hard lately with the killings, you need to stop overworking yourself." You turned to the kitchen, ready to make breakfast, when Michael's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist hard enough to leave bruises later.

You hissed in pain, turning back to him with tears pricking your eyes.

Michael loosened his grip, avoiding eye contact with you as he pulled your hand back over to his shoulder. He gave it a light pat as if sealing it in place before his hand returned to the mug.

You rolled your eyes and started back up on his back rub. "You could have just asked."

He ignored you as he sipped the tea. It was hot, and he supposed it tasted better than water. And his body was feeling a little looser as you continued to rub his back.

He wasn't good at relaxing, but he could enjoy it in his own way.


End file.
